From Brooding Boss to Adoring Dad

by Dianne Drake

  “Not yet. But I saw a couple of places back up the road, about an hour’s drive.” She’d hoped to stay in one of the cottages she supposedly owned, but that wasn’t working out, so far. “Or I can go back to one of the larger towns.” Port Wallace perhaps. It was not a tourist spot, but nice. Two hours away on a bumpy road, though, which wasn’t going to improve her disposition.

  “You can stay here, at Trinique’s.”

  “In the bar?” It wasn’t an offer she’d expected, but she was tempted since this trip wasn’t about her comfort or convenience.

  He pointed to a little cottage sitting several hundred yards off the road. It was nearly hidden by palm trees. “That’s my mother’s house. She’s not here now. Won’t be back for several days, maybe longer. The place is empty, so if you’d like to stay there …”

  Now, this was the hospitality her father had always spoken of. The Jamaica he loved, and the Jamaica she’d come to love through him. They’d traveled here often enough while she’d been growing up, to visit her grandmother Glover. This was the first time, though, she’d come without her father. The first time she wasn’t here as a tourist but as someone who would eventually live here, maybe spend the rest of her life here. And the idea of staying at Trinique’s cottage made her feel welcome. Certainly more welcome than Adam Coulson did. “If you don’t think she’d mind …”

  “My mother would mind if you didn’t stay there. You’re part of us now. We take care of our own.”

  Erin smiled brightly at the thought of belonging. It was something she never took for granted. “Then I accept. Thank you. And, please, tell your mother thank you when you talk to her.” She took one last look at Adam Coulson before she went to settle in. His back was still to her and he was … studying her in the reflection of the glass he’d just polished. She waved at him, and spun away just as the sound of shattering glass quieted the bar for a moment.

  Pulling another thousand-dollar note from her pocket, she handed it to Davion. “Give this to the doctor. I waited tables when I was in medical school, and we always had to pay for the dishes we broke. Tell him that glass he just dropped was on me!”

  “You told her?” Adam growled at Davion. “Why the hell did you do that?” He sat down on the step into Trinique’s and handed a bottle of soda to the young boy who sat down next to him. Tadeo. Aged eight. His shadow a good bit of the time.

  “Because it was the right thing to do, and you know that. She made a long trip to come see you, to finish the business deal you started, and you owe her an explanation. Or her money back.”

  “What I owe her is … nothing.”

  “Nothing,” Tadeo parroted, assuming a scowl like Adam’s.

  “See, even Tadeo agrees with me. And it’s not like I’m going to keep her money. As soon as I have time to go to the bank in Port Wallace, I’ll have it transferred back to her. Then the deal will be over with.” Even though having that money was tempting him in ways he detested being tempted.

  Davion pulled a stool outside and sat down. “It’s not right, and you know that.” He glanced at Tadeo. “And don’t you go siding with Adam, you hear? Because Adam has to do the right thing.”

  “He will,” Tadeo defended. “He’ll do the right thing.”

  “Yes, he will, because he is trying to set a good example for you, Tadeo.” Davion grinned at Adam then took a swig of his own soda.

  “Are you two ganging up on me?” Adam grumbled.

  “For your own good,” Davion said. “Backing out on that deal isn’t right, and you know it.”

  “A lot of things aren’t right. If I bothered myself worrying about all of them I’d never be able to drag myself from job to job.”

  “OK, I get your point. You don’t want to be bothered with her. But did you see that red hair on her?”

  Adam had. And he’d rather liked it. Lots of red hair … red, the color of an old penny. And wild, like the wind had swept through it once and decided to stay there. “What about her hair?”

  “She’s going to be stubborn. One look at her, and you can tell she’s not going to give up. And you, Adam, are her target. Like it or not, you’re going to have to deal with her. Sooner, not later.” He grinned. “Which is why I gave her directions to your cottage. You need to get it over with, and quit being so miserable. You’re scaring the kiddies who come to the clinic. Even Tadeo’s looking a little worried.”

  Adam regarded the boy at his side. No parents, and his mother’s cousin was raising him now. But he was neglected. Or more like overlooked. And he was so eager to please, eager to help. The son he would have, if he could. “You’re not worried about me, are you?”

  “Some,” Tadeo said without hesitation. “You’re grumpy lately. Sometimes it scares me that maybe you don’t like me any more.”

  Now, that made Adam feel truly terrible. He loved this kid. Tadeo had wormed his way into a special place in Adam’s heart and there was no way he wanted him to feel like that. “You know you’re my best friend, don’t you?” He tousled Tadeo’s scraggly black hair. “That’s not going to change, even when I’m grumpy.”

  “Best friend,” Tadeo said, holding up his hand to high-five him.

  “For ever,” Adam said, as their hands slapped.

  “Now, maybe you should go high-five Dr Glover,” Davion suggested.

  “Well, maybe I would, except, I’ve got to get back to work.” He stood. “And, Tadeo, come back later and we’ll have dinner together, if Pabla doesn’t mind.” Pabla Reyes, Tadeo’s guardian, never minded. “Conch fritters OK with you?”

  Tadeo gave him a thumbs-up, handed Adam the empty soda bottle, then dashed off toward the beach.

  “He needs better,” Davion said.

  “At least we agree on something,” Adam responded on his way back to the bar. He worried about Tadeo, worried about Davion, too, but in a different way. Davion’s mother was Trinique, a salt-of-the earth kind of woman who had raised her son in the best possible way. She was saving to send Davion to medical school, and Davion was saving, too. But times were tough, and at the rate they were going, Davion’s medical education was a long way off. But with the money from the sale of his property, Adam was going to be able to help get Davion there sooner. Which was why, ultimately, he would turn over the deed to his property. He knew that, even though he couldn’t bring himself to admit it. His clinic needed supplies. He was out of all but a few of the necessary drugs, he needed a new stethoscope … couldn’t afford even the damned wooden tongue depressors, which were cheap. More than anything, though, the world needed the likes of Davion Thomas as a doctor.

  Selling his little piece of land was going to make it all possible. Like it or not, he’d do the right thing by Dr Glover, because he had to. But he was still going to be grumpy for a while. He deserved that much.

  “I know that look on your face,” Davion said, stepping up to the bar.

  “There’s no look on my face.”

  “Sure there is.” Davion grinned. “Look in the mirror, see it for yourself. It’s the look that says you’re going to give the property deed to Dr Glover and be nice to your new neighbor.”

  “I might be thinking about finishing Stella, and selling her.”

  “Ah, but you love that boat too much. You’d never sell her. Not even if you had to sell the both halves of your property instead of just one.”

  He was correct in that assumption. That boat was a huge connection to his past, to his grandfather. It was the one thing in his life he’d never part with. “OK, if she’s there when I get home, I’ll talk to her. I’ll give her the deed then tell her to leave me the hell alone. There, does that make you happy? ”

  “Or she’ll tell you to leave her the hell alone. She’s a strong woman, Adam. Like my mother. Once they know what they want, they don’t let anything stand in their way, and you’ve been standing in Dr Glover’s way.”

  “I’m not even going to get into a conversation with you about strong women, Davion. You know how I feel on that
subject.” His ex-wife had been a strong woman and look how that had turned out for him. Now strong women made him run in the opposite direction. He just didn’t have it in him to deal with them any more. Not that there’d really been a woman since … he wasn’t going to think about that discouraging part of his life since there hadn’t been a woman beating a path to his door since he’d settled here permanently.

  “Well, the strong lady in question won’t be waiting for you at your house. She’s staying at my mother’s.”

  “You asked her to stay here?” He swiped an angry hand through his hair. “Meaning she’s there right now, probably getting ready to waylay me on the way out the door when I get off work tonight.”

  Davion grinned. “Probably. But you have it coming.”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  “I just want everybody to be happy.”

  “And what, in all this, is going to make me happy?”

  “The medicine you can buy for your clinic. You know it will. And I wouldn’t mind a new otoscope for the clinic to make me a little happier, if that counts for anything.”

  “It counts.” Point made. It was hard being grumpy around Davion, even when Adam wanted to be grumpy, because Davion radiated happiness and enthusiasm. He never, ever saw the negative in any situation. “So, I’ll try and be happy. And I’ll even apologize to the lady. But I get the feeling that an apology won’t be enough for her. She’s going to want a pound of my flesh, too.” He looked out the window across from the bar, saw Erin Glover standing on Trinique’s front porch, leaning against the white column, arms folded tightly across her chest. It was breezy, her hair was blowing. Dressed in a gauzy skirt and a tank top, she was … well, unfortunately she was just about the sexiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Which was a problem because the last sexy thing he’d got himself tangled up with had taken him for a ride that, even after two years past its legal end, still stung. “And in the meantime, I’m going to wait on customers for the next several hours and make sure you study those medical books I gave you. Jamaica itself may not have a recognized paramedic program, but I’ve got pretty tough standards for my paramedic. If you expect to stay working for me, you’ve got to keep cracking those books.” Actually, that’s what Davion did in every spare minute he had. He studied harder than Adam had ever studied in medical school. Which was why Davion was going to be a great doctor. He was motivated. He had passion. And he was smart.

  Davion rolled his eyes, then retreated to the rear corner of Trinique’s, where he had a table set up with all his books and study materials. When he wasn’t working in the clinic, he spent his days and nights studying part of the time and singing the rest of the time. It was his soulful voice that brought in the customers, and it was his soul that would make him a great doctor someday. Adam wanted to be part of that, part of something good, because good hadn’t really touched his life in a long, long time.

  For a moment, his attention wandered back to the front porch of Trinique’s cottage, where Erin Glover was still standing, still looking rigid. Then he meandered down to the end of the bar to wait on a customer, trying to forget the image that just didn’t want to let go.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “IT LOOKS bad. Is Trinique here?”

  The man standing in front of Erin was holding a child in his arms. A child with a foot wrapped in a bloody towel. Instantly, Erin wanted to see the wound. “Bring him into the house,” she instructed, pushing open the door.

  “We want to see Trinique.”

  “I’m sorry, but she’s not here. Davion said she would be gone for a while.”

  “Then I have to go see Doc Adam. He’ll know what to do.”

  “Is Trinique a doctor?” Erin asked, clearly confused.

  “No, ma’am. But she’s been taking care of us for a long time. Before Doc Adam, and since he’s working at the bar today, I didn’t want to bother him.”

  “Look, I’m a doctor. I take care of children. Could I have a look at your son’s foot? See what I can do for him?” She wasn’t prepared, really. Didn’t have her medical kit. Hadn’t even come here as a doctor. But a child in need … she couldn’t turn them away.

  The man wasn’t convinced, a sentiment that shone clearly on his face. “Doc Adam will do it fine, since Trinique isn’t here. But I appreciate the offer.”

  “Doc Adam isn’t being a doctor right now. He’s busy serving beer and rum,” she said, instantly regretting the cutting remark. She didn’t know his circumstances and he certainly didn’t deserve the professional slap. “Look, how about I just take a little look? You bring your boy inside then while I get the wound cleaned up a little, you can go and get Doc Adam.”

  That seemed to appease the man, because he brushed right past Erin and ran straight to the daybed in the front room, where he laid his son down. “His name is Tyjon, and I’m Ennis. Ennis Clarke.” He extended a hand to Erin, and shook hard when she took it. “I appreciate your offer. Good afternoon, ma’am Doctor.”

  Good morning. Good afternoon. Good evening. The polite, customary greeting always used when addressing others. It was expected, especially in the more rural areas such as Regina. Her father had told her about this, told her to remember it. “Good afternoon, Mr Clarke. I’ll take very good care of Tyjon.”

  Apparently, Ennis Clarke trusted that, because he turned and ran out the door, which gave Erin only a few minutes to assess the boy’s foot before Adam Coulson took over. She didn’t like that idea. But, then, she had no idea what kind of doctor he was. Didn’t even know if he was a real doctor, for that matter. “So, tell me what happened, Tyjon.”

  “I stepped on glass. Broken bottle in the street. Cut my foot.”

  “When? This morning?”

  He shook his head. “Two days ago. It wasn’t so bad then. We washed it and it was OK. But now it hurts worse. And it started to bleed some more.”

  She began unwrapping the towel, trying to be gentle because the dried blood had caused it to stick to his foot. When Tyjon winced, she slowed down the process, and as she peeled back the bulky layers and got closer to the wound, the smell of infection became noticeable. “Did you wash it with soap?” she asked.

  He nodded. “My mother washed it very good.”

  “And did you put on shoes and socks after you washed it?”

  “No, ma’am Doctor. I don’t like shoes.”

  Down to the last layer, she peeled it back carefully, and what she found wasn’t good. The cut was on his heel, almost the length of his heel. Very jagged, very dirty. And swollen. There was also pus, much more than she’d expected. General redness everywhere. On top of that, his whole foot seemed warm and slightly puffy. She needed supplies, something antiseptic to start the cleaning. Antibiotics at the very least. Suture materials. But she had … nothing at all.

  Erin looked around. If Trinique was a healer of some kind, maybe she had a first aid kit. “I’ll be right back, Tyjon. I need to go and find something to clean up your foot.”

  Water would work for starters. Get the dirt off. Give her a better look at what she had to deal with.

  In the kitchen, she filled a basin full of water, grabbed two clean dishtowels then returned to Tyjon, who was laughing over something Doc Adam had apparently told him. Adam Coulson looked up at her. Saw the basin of water. “Fetching my cleaning supplies for me?” he asked.

  “What I’m fetching is a basin of water so I can begin to clean Tyjon’s foot.”

  “She’s a ma’am doctor,” Ennis Clarke explained quite seriously.

  “So she says,” Adam snorted, standing then walking straight over to Erin and taking the basin of water from her hands. “My bag …” He pointed to it sitting next to the door. “Find my antibiotic cream in there. If I have any left. And I probably have some suture. See if you can also come up with a vial of lidocaine, too. I’m pretty sure I have some of that.”

  “Pretty sure?”

  He shrugged. “Supplies aren’t easy to come by. We have to make do, sometimes.�
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  “How do you make do without suture? Or lidocaine?” Lidocaine hydrochloride, more specifically, was the anesthetic agent he’d inject into Tyjon to dull the pain of the stitches.

  “When you don’t have it, you don’t have it. So, you improvise.”

  She wasn’t sure what that meant. Wasn’t sure she even wanted to find out.

  “Davion,” Adam continued, “run back to the clinic and see if I have any antibiotic cream samples there so I can give them to Ennis. I think I might have a few left. Also, bring me a syringe and a vial of penicillin.”

  “Penicillin?” Nobody used that any more. There were newer, much more effective drugs on the market. Occasionally, she’d prescribed one of the penicillin derivatives, but never penicillin itself.

  “Good drug,” Adam quipped. “Highly underrated today, and even more highly underused.”

  “And cheap,” Davion said on his way out the door.

  “Well, that, too,” Adam agreed. He dipped the kitchen towel into the basin of water and started to wash Tyjon’s foot.

  It had to hurt. She saw the poor boy grimacing, and wondered if the infection had spread beyond his foot. What she saw even more than that, though, was the gentle way Coulson was taking care of Tyjon. Soothing hands. It was a term her father used. He’d always said the best doctors didn’t get so tied up in the book learning that they forgot how to have soothing hands. He’d had those soothing hands for her all those times she’d been sick after her chemotherapy, during all those times she hadn’t been sure if she’d live or die. She remembered her father’s soothing hands and right now what she saw with Adam Coulson was what she’d known from her father.

  “What can I do to help?” she asked, after a quick look through his medical bag produced a vial with barely enough lidocaine to do the job, a scant amount of fresh suture, a few pieces of candy, a package of sterile gauze strips and a stethoscope with shredded rubber earpieces.

  “You a surgeon?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Pediatrician.”